How Edward Stole Christmas
by LilyAnneMarie
Summary: A harmless gesture to make it a memorable Christmas for his daughter is somehow always twisted to make Edward Cullen look like the bad guy-- all because of Emmett, that is. ONESHOT.


**I do not own Twilight or any songs used. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Christmas Eve found the Cullens and company surrounding a majestic green tree, decked out in colorful lights and expensive red and gold ornaments. Artificial poinsettia flowers "blossomed" from the long dark green branches. Thick, fluffy red ribbon encircled the circumference of the tree from tip to base. A gold star was lit at the top, bathing the top branch in a golden halo. Esme and Alice Cullen had really outdone themselves this time. It was truly a heartwarming sight for the family of eight undead vampires, one vampire hybrid, and the three werewolves.

Emmett Cullen was shaking boxes, trying to take a guess at what was jiggling around on the inside. A pale white ear was pressed against the red wrapping paper, listening intently. Though most vampires would be able to give an accurate guess with their extraordinarily perceptive senses, Emmett was simply... not that... bright...

"It's a... a...." He sniffed the box. "It's a puppy! You got me a puppy!" His finger shot out towards his sister-in-law, Bella, as he jumped around. "YOU GOT ME A PUPPY!"

"Not quite." Bella said. There was no need to tell him he would kill the puppy for its blood the moment it was unwrapped. Surely a stuffed puppy would suffice. "But close."

Emmett crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction, falling onto his rear end before the tree. "I'll name him George." Bella had to roll her eyes at that one.

"When can we open presents?" A very excited "eight" year old Renesmee tugged on her mother's arm. Her chocolaty brown eyes were round with the excitement of a child.

"Tomorrow morning after Santa comes and brings you the rest of your presents," Bella replied, patting her daughter's head tenderly.

"Mom," Nessie groaned. "I know there's no such thing as Santa Claus."

Edward and Bella exchanged a quick nervous glance.

"What do you mean, Darling?" Edward asked with the perfection of an actor. "Of course there is a Santa Claus."

"Well, Uncle Jasper said--"

"He lied," Bella interrupted.

"You don't even know what he--"

"He lied."

If vampires could blush, Jasper Hale's face would be as red as a tomato. Under the intense glares of his siblings-- not to mention his own parents--, he waved weakly. His wife, Alice, smacked the top of his head, hissing a quiet "You asshole".

"There was a Santa Claus." Emmett was shaking another present, trying to guess the mystery object.

Renesmee's eyes lit up with delight. "Really?"

"Yeah," Emmett said. Setting his box down, he finished with "He got shot."

Mouths dropped, including the one of the child before him. Her eyes welled up with tears as she shook her curls in disbelief.

"W-what?" She gasped. "S-Santa? D-d-dead?"

"EMMETT!" Rosalie hissed. "YOU ASSHOLE!"

Edward Cullen pulled his daughter into a hug, trying to console her. As she sobbed into his shirt, he mouthed unkind phrases and promises of death. When his daughter pulled away, he stared her intently in the eye.

"Santa's dead," she sobbed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Daddy, who shot Santa Claus?"

"Honey, what did I tell you about Uncle Emmett?" Edward asked.

"Not to believe him." A new round of tears welled up. "But he said--"

"Uncle Em doesn't know what he's talking about," Edward convinced her. "Dear, there is a Santa Claus."

This seemed enough for Renesmee, who bounced back to her usual perky self, jumping onto the couch beside her mother. She began rattling off what she hoped Santa brought her for Christmas. Bella made a mental checklist of what else she had to run out and buy tonight. Even with her husband being a mindreader, it was impossible to capture every last whim of a child-- but they could try.

Night wore on, and the Cullens retired their separate ways. Renesmee went to bed in her room in the cottage down the road, with Seth, Leah, and Jacob spending the night. Most would consider it dangerous leaving three werewolves and a hybrid alone-- especially that bunch-- but Bella knew that Leah would take the reins if it got too rowdy.

Edward and Bella were running out to get some last minute shopping done, though what was open Christmas Eve was beyond them. Rosalie went with them, for she believed she had insight on the delights of a child. Carlisle and Esme went to the hospital for a Christmas party, and decided they would do some driving around afterwards. Alice and Jasper went to Seattle to-- well, let's not talk about them.

Emmett was the only one left around the empty house late that night. He lay on his back before the tree, fidgeting into different positions.

_If only I could sleep,_ he thought wistfully.

He moved this way and that. A half an hour into the process, he gave up in frustration.

"Nothing to do," he muttered to himself, making his way upstairs. "Everyone left me. Bella doesn't want me around Nessie after that last time..."

In an angered huff, he stormed into the kitchen. There was a plate of cookies set out on the table, with a note to Santa from none other than Renesmee. Emmett stared at the cookies quizically-- chocolate chip. If he were human, he would have undoubtedly scarfed them down by now. Yet, he _was_ bored...

"Just one," he told himself, scooping up a cookie and stuffing part of it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, observing the odd taste.

"Not bad... a little like-- Oh, God!" The cookie dropped from his hand, falling on the tiled floor and breaking into crumbs. Emmett sprinted towards the bathroom, feeling what he had just eaten ready to come back up.

Heaving melodramatically, he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. After he brushed his teeth with the disgusting minty toothpaste and vowed never to eat another cookie so long as he shall live, Emmett made his way back to the kitchen to clean up his mess. Compiling all the supplies he would need-- a dust pan and broom--, he began to clean. Until he heard a rustling in the chimney...

"Who's there?" His head snapped upwards, his overly sensitive ears straining to hear better. "I've got a--" He looked dejectedly down at his weapons. "Broom."

There was no answer.

"I said who's there?"

No answer.

"Answer me!"

No answer.

"Can you hear me?"

No answer.

Emmett's grip tightened on the broom, though he was cautious not to crack the cheap plastic handle. Raising the "weapon" over his head, he snuck into the living room where the noise originated. Soft tip-toeing was heard. He quietly snuck behind the large tree, unsuccessfully hiding his large, muscular body behind it. A hearty laugh and a jingling of sleigh bells alerted Emmett that this was not a devious crook. And he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was.

"HARRY POTTER!" With a bound, he leapt from behind the tree, engulfing this stranger in a hug. "I KNEW IT! YOU CAME TO FULFILL MY CHRISTMAS WISH! WE'RE GOING TO HOGWARTS!" He sobbed tearlessly into the man's crimson red coat. "This is a dream come true!" Pulling away, he noticed the man's long, white beard, sooty boots, crimson apparel fringed with white, and large, round figure.

"Whoa, Harry..." Emmett patted "Harry's" stomach. "Ever hear of Weight Watchers?"

"Harry" slapped Emmett's hands away. "Emmett, go away. I have things to do."

"No need to be so testy, Harry--"

"I'm _Santa_," he protested. "Got it? _Santa_!"

Emmett's jaw dropped, his eyes lighting up. "SANTA! SANTA! OH MY GOSH! I KNEW IT WAS YOU! I KNEW IT!"

"Shut up!" Santa slapped a hand to Emmett's mouth. "You'll wake someone."

"No one's here." Emmett informed him.

Something was vaguely familiar about Santa, but he pushed that thought away immediately.

"Where's Renesmee?" Santa asked. "Wasn't she supposed to spend the night here?"

"She's at the cottage," Emmett replied. "Bella sent them there."

"Why didn't she tell me?" Santa mumbled, whipping out a small, silver cell phone that glimmered in the light from the tree.

"Whoa, Santa!" Emmett exclaimed. "I love you cell phone! I have one just like it! See!" He dug into the pockets of his jeans and pulled out one that was equivalent to Santa's. "Ker-pow!"

"That's great," Santa said. He was transfixed on dialing.

"Who are you calling?!" Emmett inquired, bouncing with excitement. "The elves?!"

"Mrs. Claus," Santa replied carelessly.

"MRS. CLAUS!" Emmett clapped his hands together. "I have a wife, too, you know!"

"That's incredible."

"Her name is Rosalie."

"Fascinating."

"She's _blond."_

"Wow."

Santa began talking into his phone, walking away from a dumbstruck Emmett. After a minute, Edward clicked shut his phone and went to scoop up two presents from under the tree.

"What are you doing, Santa?" Emmett inquired. He glared suspiciously as the presents were dumped into a black garbage bag Santa pulled from his coat.

"Dropping off some presents," he explained.

Emmett frowned. "This is just like my favorite book..."

Santa quirked an eyebrow. "Your favorite book?"

"It was written by a great man," Emmett said with reverance. "Dr. Seuss."

"Emmett, your mind is as shallow as a kiddy pool."

"Thank you. Anyway, the Grinch doesn't like Christmas, so he steals all the Christmas decorations and brings them to the top of a hill. But the townsfolk still have Christmas spirit, so they sing." Emmett closed up on Santa's ear and began singing. "Welcome Christmas, Christmas day."

"Shut up, Em," Santa snapped. "I'm not stealing Christmas."

"Likely story."

Santa frowned. Without warning, he flashed out the door with speed of a vampire.

"Oh no you don't!" Emmett hollered. He took off after Santa. When Santa weaved through the trees in the woods, Emmett weaved through the trees in the woods. When Santa hopped into the flowing river snaking through the forest, Emmett hopped into the flowing river snaking through the forest.

"I'm just taking these gifts to Nessie!" Santa cried.

"Liar!" Emmett swore. "You're stealing Christmas."

Santa leaped from the river a soaking mess. The presents were raised high above his head, protected from any sort of blemish. His feet propelled him forward, the red hat perched on his head flying off. Soon enough, the beard fell beneath his chin.

"Shit," he cursed, knelting to the ground to recapture his hat. Emmett took that moment to tackle him to the ground.

"Aha!" Emmett gripped his beard. "I'm gonna pull your hair off! Bet that'll hurt!"

"No, Emmett!" Santa begged. "Emmett, don't--"

But it was all in vain, for in a moment, the curly white beard was held in Emmett's hand-- the _fake_ curly white beard. Emmett gawked, reaching forward to pull off the hat and hair--

***

Several Christmases later, the Cullen family sat before a crackling fire. Emmett reclined in a great maroon armchair, rocking himself back and forth.

"And that, my friends, is the story of how Edward stole Christmas," he concluded.

The rest of the family gaped. There was an awkward silence that continued for a few moments. Nessie finally broke it with her laughter that sounded like bells.

"I can't believe you would do something like that!" She giggled. "Dad, don't you know what a dolt Emmett is?!"

The teenage Renesmee glanced at her father with tears of laughter in her eyes. Edward grimaced.

"It was for you, need I remind you, young lady," he mumbled.

"It took two weeks to get Emmett to stop sulking," Bella stated. "I think Rosalie was the one who finally got him to toughen up."

"Do I want to know?" Renesmee asked, raising an inquisitive brow.

"When you're older," Rosalie said.

The entire family shuddered. Jacob stood on tip-toes, peering out the window at the quickly falling snow.

"It's really piling up out there," he commented. A grin plastered itself across his face, and before anyone could ask, he scooped Nessie up and ran up the stairs and out the door.

There was an awkward pause. Emmett finally shouted, "EPIC SNOWBALL FIGHT!"

Cheers erupted in the room. They pushed through the doors to get out into the falling snow, where Jacob and Nessie were pelting snowballs at each other and giggling. Rosalie took a heap of snow and dumped it down Emmett's shirt. Bella hid behind Edward as Jasper and Alice chucked their snowballs at them. Even Leah and Seth, who were there for Christmas once more, were having a little sibling snowball war amongst themselves.

Back against the doors, Carlisle held Esme in his arms. She glanced up at him, a smile curled on her pale pink lips.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured.

"Merry Christmas," he replied.

Then, they too, joined into the childish fun of a Christmas snowball fight.

_Merry Christmas 2009_

**Author's Note: The ending was weird, but oh well. I've never had a snowball fight like that with my entire family, but definitely with my sisters and dad, and once I think maybe even my mom joined in. We usually don't have that much snow on Christmas though. But ANYHOO leave me a comment telling me about some of your most memorable Christmases :D Mine would probably be last year when we had Christmas Eve at our house, and we had like fifteen people coming. I suggested that we all sit at one table (because usually the kids separate from the adults) and so we crammed one of my mom's sewing tables alongside our regular dinner table. Everyone thought it would be packed, but it was actually really nice because everyone had one big discussion and... I just liked it :D Merry Christmas and happy holidays!**

**_I just want you here tonight, holding onto me so tight. What more can I do? Baby, all I want for Christmas is you_... Reviews? Comments? Click that button!**

**--Lauren :D**


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